Prologue: Victim of Circumstance
by Felix Xavier Page
Summary: Prologue to Victim of Circumstance. Read this before the big story.
1. Act I

Victim of Circumstance 

or How I Begun My Illustrious Career As A Shadowrunner By Felix Page 

Prologue

Act I

"You can't be serious!" I exclaimed, leaning on my professor's desk with my final report card clenched in my right fist. "I botch one measly test, and you're flunking me?!"

"Mr. Page," Professor Ellan pulled his glasses off and looked directly at me. "I'm not failing you because you 'botched' a 'measly' examination. I am failing you because you have consistently neglected assignments, are tardy on a regular basis, and, quite frankly, show me absolutely no motivation."

"I know I'm late on a couple assignments sometimes and I know I'm late to class every now and then, but come on! I can perform every spell you've taught us!" I said with frustration building. "Remember the summoning we had to do? No one else conjured a more powerful water elemental than I did!"

"Yes, I know, Mr. Page, but that was only half the assignment," the professor said sharply. "The other half was a completed report of the procedure." He paused and pointed at me. "Which, I might add, was two months late." The professor stood up, stretched, and walked to the door. "I'm sorry, but you know why you failed. Good day." The professor left the classroom, leaving me leaning on his desk. I sat down in the front row of the classroom and sighed. What was I to do? I just received my report card from the University of Thaumaturgy in Seattle. Three Cs, two Ds, and two Fs. I wasn't going to graduate.

"Dad's gonna kill me." I groaned to myself. "Crap!" I got up and left, dragging my feet and silently cursing the entire way home. It was about seven o'clock when I got back to my apartment. When I walked in, I saw the answering machine on my phone blinking. I was pretty sure it was Mom. Through the dark room, I hit the play button.

"Hello, dear. It's Mom." came from the phone. I smiled a bit. I took a ninety-degree turn to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer, and flicked on a light.

"Well, your schedule says you got your grades today..." continued Mom's voice.

"Yep, that I did." I thought, and popped the top on the bottle. I tossed the cap over my shoulder. It landed in the sink. While I did it every time, it still felt pretty neat I had such blind accuracy.

"And, well, we want to know how you did." Mom's voice didn't sound too enthusiastic. Then Dad's voice came on. The same tone as Mom's was.

"Listen son, however you did, call us and tell us, okay? Well be home after six the rest of the week. Take care." Dad's voice said, then the machine stopped. I sighed. Great. Since my college career was confirmed dead, my only possible option was moving back home. I hated the idea of moving back home. I had a little more than three grand in the bank, and that wouldn't pay the rent very long. A knock came from the door. I ignored it and sulked.

"Yo!" the voice called from the outside. "You in there?"

"Dead men don't answer the door." I called back. The door came open anyway.

"Hey!" I snapped, but smiling. "I have a lock on that door for a reason!"

"Yeah, and I ain't it!" The thieving S.O.B. that picked my lock was a friend of mine. The name he used was "Bones" because he was a skeleton key. Certainly the best locksmith I had ever seen, both mechanical and electrical, although I use the title "locksmith" loosely, as locksmiths typically have a license and perform their art legally. He was a skinny punk whom always sported a Mohawk and a leather jacket adorned with over a hundred little white buttons with assorted sayings, more obscene than not. He reminded me of a billboard. Bones didn't go to the University, but I've known him ever since I began attending four years ago. He went straight to the refrigerator.

"That's it. I'm installing a lock on the refrigerator."

"Why?" He asked. "I'd pick it."

"Yeah, I'd like to see you pick a Doberman." I grunted. "What are you doing here anyway?" He came into the living room with a bottle of my beer and plopped down in a chair in the corner.

"Not working tonight." He said. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You're always out on Mondays. Studying, or attempting to get laid, or something." Bones tilted the bottle back for a drink.

"Yeah, I usually do. That is, when I was going to the University." Bones nearly choked. He leaned forward sputtering and trying to clear his throat.

"You serious?" He said.

"As a heart attack." I said. "I was ever so politely asked never to show up again."

"No way!" He exclaimed.

"Oh come on. You know that I never gave school a serious thought."

"Yeah, but you always managed to spread the BS thick." Bones said. "What was your famous line?" We repeated in unison "Homework's not that important. I'll kick ass on the final and do fine."

"That worked fine the first year. Before homework was eighty percent of my grade." I said. "The BS ran out a long time ago."

"Damn. That's a shame. So what now?"

"Looks like I'm moving back home." I replied. Bones swallowed half of his beer and got up.

"Well, sorry for drinking and running, but I'm gonna head out. You done with 'Fletch' yet?" He asked.

"Yeah. It's in the player." I said, pointing at the TV with the neck of my bottle. He went over to the trid and extracted the movie chip. "Later." Bones left, leaving the door open behind him as usual. I turned on the news and fell asleep in front of it.

The next morning, I walked back to the University. At the front entrance, I handed my ID card to the security guard. He scanned it, then handed it back to me.

"It expires tonight at nine. Don't get caught inside." He grunted, staring at me through his mirrored sunglasses. I flashed a quick smile and went inside. I had to clear a few things with the finance department, then get a slip signed by all my professors to verify I was no longer attending. After an hour of general annoyance from the front office, I received the dreaded pink piece of paper: the dismissal slip. I was almost relieved to be rid of most of my professors, but I felt terrible as I approached my last. Outside the door, I took a deep breath, and walked inside. 

Professor Jones was sitting at his desk, tapping at a computer, looking slightly interested at whatever was scrolling by. He was a slight elf, very slender and tall; a textbook example of what an elf looked like. His clothing was perpetually immaculate: well pressed and freshly cleaned every day. That was Professor Jones' major differing feature from the other professors, whom always had a stain on their shirts or a crease in their slacks that was formed with moistened thumb and forefinger. He was my first professor when I first enrolled four years ago, and he was also one of my last. As I approached his desk, he looked up and smiled.

"Why Mr. Page! How nice it is to see you again before you graduate!" He said, his voice soft and articulate. 

"Well, that's why I'm here..." I said, and produced the pink sheet. His smiled drooped a little.

"I can't say I'm surprised." Professor Jones said. "Who failed you? Ellan? I bet it was him." He smiled again. "Mr. Page. You've always been my best student. Take a seat." I sat at the desk right across from his.

"You never turned a report in on time, but you've always cranked out a spell perfectly." Professor Jones continued. He sighed. "In the real world, that's all it is anymore. Paperwork. Never any credit for a good piece of magical work. I would have given you an 'A' if it weren't for that silly academic policy." I smiled. He paused and looked at his desk.

"Hell, look what I'm doing now. Paperwork!" He said. "Ninety eight percent paperwork, two percent magic, and even that's watered down." He sighed again. He leaned back in his chair. "But the pay's decent, and the library is quite good." Then the professor sat back up again with a look of shock. "Oh, no. You're not going to have access to the library anymore!"

"Nope." I said, also lamenting. "Afraid not. But you know, I can always come back again some other time. Maybe go to the local library..."

"The local library..." Professor Jones scoffed. "It couldn't tell you how to toast bread properly." He sat staring off into space for a couple seconds, then looked back at me. 

"Do you still have your entrance pass?" He asked.

"Uh, yeah." I said. I took it out of my pocket, and handed it to him, expecting him to break it in half.

"Come with me." Professor Jones took his jacket from the back of his chair and exited his classroom. I followed close behind him. We entered the front office and without pause proceeded to a door marked "Identification Processing". He produced his own identification card and slid it trough the maglock on the wall. He punched in nine numbers and a click came from the door jam. We entered.

The room was really small. The only items inside were a desk, a chair and a small computer. He sat down at the computer and slid my card down a slot on the side.

"Hmmm. It seems your pass is going to expire in eight hours." He mused. He tapped one button, and the screen cleared.

"Wait a second!" I said, but he hushed me.

"Now then. You're no longer a student here, remember?" He said. "However..." He began typing. "There's an opening in the library for my new..." The computer dinged pleasantly. "assistant!" Professor Jones got up, went back into the main office and to the card printer. He withdrew a brand new card from the plastic basket and handed it to me. On it was my name, my picture, but the card was now a different color: the faculty green. Under my name, in large, red, highly visible letters, read "Faculty Assistant: Prof. Jones. UNLIMITED".

"Oh my God!" I whispered, trying to keep my voice down. People usually attempted bizarre schemes involving kidnapping and retinal replacements for something like this. "You made me your assistant?"

"Not really. Just in name. You may now use the library any time you want. You can even take books home. Just flash that around and they don't argue. Come back to the classroom." I followed him back to the classroom. He sat down and jotted something on a piece of paper. 

"You know, every one of those graduates are going turn into wage slaves. All fifty-six of them have accepted positions at various corporations. This cycle will continue. Magic will be overly used and abused, magic will lose its importance, and basically stagnate and die. However, many individuals have chosen to use magic to it's highest potential, and I can guarantee you they don't have to be in an office at 9 AM on a Monday morning. You always impressed me, Mr. Page. I'm willing to give you a chance to use your magic to full potential." He handed me the paper. On it was a phone number belonging to a "Mr. J." 

"What, is this you?" I asked.

"No. His name's Johnson. He'll get you a job." He said. "Just mention me."

"Thank you, Professor. I can't believe you're doing all this."

"Think nothing of it. Mr. J's looking for a few people anyway, especially talented young individuals, such as yourself. As for the faculty ID card, I had to give it to somebody before the summer break or else I will lose the privilege. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time." The professor turned his computer off. He snapped his fingers, and out from a quick flash of flame came a shimmering figure, about a foot tall, floating before the chalkboard. Suddenly a PA speaker in the classroom clicked.

"Professor Jones." The voice said. "There are rules governing elementals on University grounds." The professor responded to the voice with the finger.

"Clean up, will you please Abe?" The professor asked the hovering elemental.

"Sure thing, Boss." the elemental replied. It floated to the blackboard and began to erase it with waves of an appendage that appeared to be a hand.

"Call that number. You'll be glad you did." Professor Jones said. We split paths in the hallway. I slipped the number into my pocket and continued settling things with the University. After submitting all the forms and signing all the papers, I went straight home to call this Mr. J.  When I entered the building, I ran up the stairs to my floor, but froze when I saw the door cracked open. It took me a second to realize why it was open.

"Bones!" I yelled in the hallway. "Stay out of my damned apartment!" I walked inside. "I bought a gun today!"

"Seriously?" He asked. He came out of my bedroom in nothing but off-white briefs. Across his stomach was a tattoo of "God Bless Full Auto" in thick black letters.

"Bones! What in the hell are you doing here?" I exclaimed. "Jesus, who knows what diseases you left on my sheets?"

"Aw, you complain too much." He yawned. "And I know exactly what diseases I left." He went to the refrigerator. "You need to buy beer." He walked into the living room with the last bottle. I snatched it from him and took a swallow.

"You first." I said. I went to the phone and picked it up. As soon as I unfolded the piece of paper, Bones snatched it from me.

"What the hell... where'd you get this?" He asked, eyes wide.

"My professor." I explained. I opened my mouth to continue, but he cut in.

"He said he was offering a job, didn't he?" He said.

"Yeah..."

"Why? Because you're a magically talented individual?"

"Great. Now you're following me to class." I groaned, and took another swallow of beer. Bones smiled from ear to ear.

"Bloody hell! I can't believe it!" He exclaimed. "You know what this is?"

"Yeah. Eleven digits, three letters and a period. Give it to me."

"You've been offered a shadowrun, numbnut." Bones said. I rolled my eyes.

"Are you insane? Have you been drinking _all _the beer in the complex? Shadowrunners exist on little chips you rent at the video store and slide into your TV, or in your case, your head." I said, tapping his head. He pulled away and knocked my hand to the side.

"Felix, what do you think I do at night, huh?" He asked.

"Collapse in a stupor around the toilet?"

"Come with me." He said, and grabbed my wrist, pulling me behind him to his apartment. He nearly kicked the door open. His apartment looked like a robbery had taken place. The only thing of any order was the pyramid of Foster's cans in the corner. Bones jumped into the next room.

"I haven't had all my shots." I complained. I stepped on a slice of pizza walking farther in. "Are you sure I'm not gonna get bitten by the vermin?" Suddenly, he whipped around the corner holding the biggest gun I had ever seen. I nearly wet myself.

"All right!" I snapped, holding my hands up. "Your vermin are cute! I like your vermin!"

"Why would I have this?" He asked, handing it to me by the barrel. I took it. The thing weighed a ton! I had only seen a weapon like this on TV.

"Home protection?" I retorted. I tossed it on the couch. It shattered a bottle under a shirt when it landed. What was there to protect?

"No. I use it to break into buildings and kill people that other people want dead or that happen to get into my way." Bones replied. His dead calm in reciting his reply unnerved me.

"Charming. Good-bye." I said and turned for the door.

"Wait a sec! Wait a second." He said. "Okay, bad introduction." He intercepted me en route to the door. "It pays a lot of money."

"So? Not all that great when the police know where you live." I said. He smiled.

"Come here." He pulled me into his bedroom. I knew why he slept at my place. His bed, a waterbed, was busted clean through. Now it looked like a Jacuzzi. Bones was the resourceful type, though. A dozen dirty plates and glasses lay soaking at the bottom. He sat down at a computer next to his closet.

"Okay. Let's see if the police know where you are..." He mused, typing. After a couple seconds, my name appeared on the top of the screen with my address, phone number and other vital statistics.

"Your police record. Clean." He said. 

"Of course it is." I replied.

"Let us take a look at mine..." He typed again, entering his name into the database. An error came up.

"Oh look!" Bones said with a deliberate tone of surprise and his hands on his cheeks. "An error! Apparently, this person doesn't exist!" He backed up to my record again. Bones inserted a disc and a message came up, claiming this record, my record, had a fatal error. Then it asked if he wanted to delete it to prevent this fatal error spreading to other records. Bones agreed, and after he entered a few passwords, the screen was blank once again.

"_Viola! Now you don't technically exist." Bones said. "Now they can't trace you back here, or anywhere! Just, uh, don't get caught. It pisses Lone Star off when they come to an identity that isn't in the database."_

"Great, I'm now a felon." I said, leaning in on the computer with mild interest. "Plus, what does this have to do with this job I'm getting?"

"Okay, okay. You do what you want to do..." Bones said. "But please listen to me first." I thought about protesting, then sighed.

"Alright." I said. "I'm listening." Bones stood up and went to the closet. He began to rummage around inside.

"Okay, how tall are you? About as tall as me? 32 waist?" he asked.

"What? Yeah, I suppose. Why?" I asked. He pulled a garment bag out. He unzipped it, and pulled out what looked to be a very expensive suit.

"You'll need this." He tossed it to me.

"Oh, well thank you. This suit certainly looks better than any of mine do. 32 waist did you say?" It was a nice shade of gray. It was a very high quality wool suit. I thought he was actually dropping the immature shadowrun game. "This should look nice for the interview."

"No, you idjit." Bones snapped, then sighed. "It's a suit with frickin' Kevlar in it. You can take a round in the chest and shake it off easily." Bones said. Upon closer inspection, I noticed it was pretty stiff in some areas, and there were numerous tiny imperfections. My guess was that they were repaired holes.

"I've had over forty bullet holes patched up in that thing, including a couple rounds from a Remington about as tall as you are." Bones commented. "I used to wear it on every run, that is until I realized a full blown trench coat with metal plates kept my hoop alive a little longer in a firefight."

"Forty rounds?" I exclaimed. "No way am I getting into this line of work!" I tossed the suit back at him.

"You said it yourself, it looks better than any of yours." He replied, raising an eyebrow and cocking his head smiling. He tossed it back.

"All right. Fine."

"Now, let's get you a gun."

"Hey!"

"Oh come off it, man." Bones scolded. "I'm deadly serious. You're going to perform a job that requires you to carry self protection!" Bones went back into the closet and came out with a gun. Smaller than the last one, but still big enough to look scary. He walked right up to me.

"Take this. Not to your interview with Mr. J., but on the actual job. When you meet him, don't tell him your name. He isn't gonna be interested anyway. Come up with an alias. Get as much money up front as possible, but don't spend too much of it until the job's done, because if you don't finish the job, he might want it back. If you get in trouble, call me, I'll find a way to bail you out. And for God's sake, don't hesitate to shoot someone, because they won't hesitate to shoot you. Do you understand me?" Bones looked me dead in the eye. Maybe he was serious. Serious enough to give me a suit of Kevlar and a gun.

"Okay." I said, almost shaken by Bones' advice. I took the gun from him.

"Do you know how to use it?"

"No."

"Point that end at someone. Pull the trigger. Repeat as often as necessary"

"Okay. Uh, thanks." I said.

"Call Mr. J." Bones said. I went straight to my apartment, followed by Bones. I picked the phone number of the floor and dialed his number. The phone buzzed a couple of times through the speaker before it was picked up.

"Yes?" the voice asked, a deep and impatient voice.

"I'm calling about the job?" I said.

"Good!" Bones whispered behind me. I waved him away.

"Who gave you this number?" The voice asked, very irritated.

"Uh, Professor Jones?" I said.

"Oh, good." The voice immediately calmed. "Come to the address I am sending you. Nine o'clock." Then the voice hung up. From the base of my phone came an address from the printer. 

"Well, you've got three hours to kill." Bones left, shutting the door carefully behind him; something he never did. Suddenly, I felt both invincible and puny at the same time. I held both the gun and the suit in my left arm. Was this job really what Bones said it was? Would I actually be "running the shadows", like they said on the trid? I dropped the suit on the couch and held the gun. I turned it over in my hands. It was a large gun. At least to me, anyway. With a bit of examination I took out the clip. It was full with about a dozen rounds. I slid it in a little ways, then slammed it the rest of the way with the flat of my palm. The entire situation freaked me out.

"I'm just going to check this job out." I thought. "Not going to do anything stupid." I tossed the gun on the couch, picked up the suit, and retreated to the shower to get ready to meet Mr. J.


	2. Act II

Act II

 After an hour of getting ready, I started to lock up. I figured I could wander through the arcade or something before nine rolled around. When I opened the door I saw Bones sitting across the hallway, waiting for me.

"Alright!" Bones said. "It fits!" I looked down. The suit did fit well. Made me feel very professional.

"Thanks. I'll see you later." I said. Bones got up.

"Wait a second. Where are you going?" Bones asked.

"Just out. Why?"

"C'mon, I'll give you a ride. Have your gun?" He asked. I sighed.

"No." I replied, much like a nine-year old would when asked if he cleaned his room yet.

"Go get it." Bones said, pointing his finger into my apartment. I went back inside and tucked it behind me in my pants. We went down to the parking garage under the building to Bones' van. It looked much like his apartment. I had to shovel a pile of pizza boxes and bottles onto the ground before I could sit down. We rode silently to the place I was to meet Mr. J. He pulled over after twenty minutes.

"Alright. Remember what I said. I'll be back here in a couple hours." Bones said.

"What?" I exclaimed. "Why?"

"I have to get supplies for a function I'm attending."

"You better keep that function out of my apartment." I snapped. I reached for the gun in my pants behind me and pointed it at him. "Hear me?"

"You can't expect me to entertain guests in my apartment. Plus, you owe me." I couldn't help but laugh.

"For what?"

"Her name was April, remember?"

"The one that stole forty out of my pants while I was sleeping?" I growled. I pulled the hammer back with my thumb. "Yeah, I remember."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you in a couple hours." Bones said. He pointed at me. "And don't take that gun with you on the interview. Stash it somewhere."

"I'll take a cab." I replied, holding the hammer while I pulled the trigger, returning it to it's resting position. I stepped onto the street and closed the door. Bones pulled away and drove off. I looked at the gun I was still holding.

"Enough of your silly games, Bones. Yeah, I'll stash it somewhere." I said to myself and tossed the gun into a storm drain. Suddenly, I realized, true to his paranoid form, Bones dropped me off half a mile away from the address. At least I still had time to walk the rest of the way.

I arrived at the address nearly half an hour early. It was a fairly well to do office building. It was much too small for any large corporation, but perhaps a small domestic company operated from here. Since there were no signs or marking besides the address, I couldn't tell. I passed through the painted doors. The bottom floor was a lobby. The entire floor was empty except for a receptionist desk, a small couch next to that, a tiny coffee table, and an elevator door. These were all on the opposite side of the windowless floor. The numerous square feet of patterned green carpet between me and the other side was nearly disorienting. When I started to walk to the receptionist's desk, I had to fight the urge to break into a run. I did, and after nearly twenty seconds of walking, I made it to the other side.

The receptionist looked up at me. She was an old woman with a thousand wrinkles and a cigarette hanging from her brittle lips. 

"May I help you?" she asked, the coffin nail wagging up and down as she talked.

"Yes, I'm here to see Mr. J? I have an appointment." I said, trying to be very brief. Not one of my strong suits. She held her gaze at me for one second longer than comfortable before she turned to the button on her desk.

"Sir?" she asked. "He's here."

"Already?" a voice from a speaker under the desk replied. "Oh, um... go ahead and send him in." The voice clicked off, and the elevator door opened. The receptionist pointed at the door. I nodded my head and stepped inside. It caught me by surprise that it went down instead of up. It traveled for a second, then halted. The door opened again, revealing a much smaller room that the lobby. It looked like a typical office: a couple filing cabinets, a few important documents on the walls, and a desk with a man sitting at it, scribbling signatures on papers. He looked up.

"You're early," he said. He was a rather unremarkable man. I seriously doubted I could pick him out of a photograph or a police line up if I had to. "If you'd like, make yourself a drink, and I'll be with you in a second." He reached for a button, pressed it, and a panel in the wall opened, revealing a bar. 

The bar wasn't too shabby. I glanced over and took a quick inventory. He had most of the expensive stuff, arranged beautifully on mirrored shelves. However, I quietly refused and took a seat across Mr. J. at his desk. He signed off something and put it aside.

"Okay, you're with Mr. Jones, you said. What's your name?" he asked. My mind raced. Crap! I can't give him my real name! Think of an alias! Then I caught myself. Bones has you paranoid. Just give him your name, stupid.

"Fletch." I replied. I immediately caught myself, but I couldn't go back. He'd think I was a head case. Damn you Bones!

"Fletch." he replied slowly. He stroked his chin. He was probably scanning his brain, wondering where he had heard that name before. "Well, anyway, you're early. We're going wait for another employee before we get started." The elevator door opened. The receptionist came out, carrying with her a box with a rag over it. Mr. J. got up and met her halfway. He lifted the rag on the box and a puff of smoke floated out. He grunted and waved the receptionist out. He sat back down.

"It seems the other employee will be, um, absent on this project. You'll be working alone." He said. My heart sped up a couple paces, but no serious worry. "Now, Fletch, I need to know some things."

"Sure." I said.

"Now, do you have any, uh, extensive track record publicly, like maybe trouble with the cops, or you might have done some work for the community. Something that the public at large can get a hold of?"

"Uh, no. Not that I know of."

"Okay, good. Do you have any problems with killing someone?" He asked, very calmly and casually, just as if he asked me my address. My heart once again sped up.

"Yes, I do. I hope I don't have to kill anybody." I said, trying not to reveal my anxiety. Mr. J. sat for a second in contemplation.

"Good. Good. I hate a high body count." I didn't know whether that was a joke or not. He reached down into the bottom drawer of his desk and took out a manila envelope. He placed it on the desk in front of me. I took it, opened it up. Inside were a couple of photos, a sketch of a map, and a half of page of text.

"It's all in there, but I'll explain to you again." Mr. J. said. "A few nights ago, a robbery occurred in one of our smaller offices. The item stolen was a package of documents that could prove fatal to this company. However, we're lucky. These documents are highly confidential and carry all the safeguards. DNA coded, thumb prints, magnetic stripped paper, the works. They won't be able to copy these documents. We need them back."

"Another robbery." I said, almost in a monotone. Bones was right. This was a shadowrun. Crap! I started to get up and explain to him that I wasn't interested.

"It pays nine thousand nuyen. Three in advance." I paused, then sat back down. Was he serious? Nine thousand nuyen? A nine with three beautiful zeros? Oh my God! I'd run naked into the Barrens for half that! That would pay rent a couple more months, and perhaps even give me enough time to figure out what I was going to do now that I was out of college. But damn my greedy side. It's amazing what courage a little money can give a guy.

"How about ten?" I asked.

"Ten?" Mr. J. responded, his face remaining still except for a cocked eyebrow.

"Yes. Ten."

"Look, young man."

"Fletch."

"Fletch, the job pays..."

"What was that thing your secretary brought in here just a second ago?"

"That's not..."

"Or should I say who?"

"Yes, you were supposed to be working with another, more experienced associate, but since his run in with a gang of..."

"Since I'm going at it alone, I'd think one more thousand would be fair." I said. It was my nature to negotiate. So much my nature that I wound up using magic inadvertently to help my cause. Influencing someone is like a shoving match between two minds. If I can shove harder, he'd see it my way.

"Okay. Ten. But I want those files back." Mr. J said, obviously not happy with the extra thousand he had to shell out. He lifted his coat to withdraw a credstick from the inside pocket. He rolled it across the deck to me. I picked it up and saw the three and three zeros in red LED lights looking back at me when I pushed the tiny button. It took me a month to earn the three thousand nuyen I had in the bank. This was absolutely fantastic!

"You have two days. Good night." Mr. J went right back to his paperwork. The elevator door opened again to reveal the receptionist, probably there to show me to the door. I collected the envelope and accompanied the receptionist to the door. When the door locked behind me, I looked at my watch. 

"Hmmm. Ten o'clock." I looked at the address again. It was across town. I hailed a cab. During the ride, I reflected on what I was going to do. Yes, it was most certainly a robbery, but I'm retrieving something that was previously stolen. What was the harm in that? Then I started to think about what I could do with the money. I was so involved in daydreaming I didn't notice the cab driver stop.

"Yo! Dude, your stop?" He yelled, knocking on the glass. I was startled.

"What? Oh, here? Um…"

"Yeah, here. Thirty eight fifty." The cabbie yelled. I withdrew the credstick and slid it into the payment slot. After the display asked to confirm payment, I paused and laughed to myself. I added a hundred nuyen as a tip. Why not share the wealth? When I hit the confirmation button, the cabbie dropped his jaw in disbelief.

"Uh, you need a receipt?" He asked.

"No, that's alright. Thank you."

"Yeah, thank you. Come back anytime! Ask for Jim!" He said and pulled away. Unlike Bones, the cabbie dropped me off across the street of the address. The building I was to break into was a small building compared to the others that surrounded it. It stood four floors high and was covered in mirrored glass. It almost looked like a gigantic jewelry box. A couple lights could be seen coming from the third floor, meaning some poor guy was working late at the whim of his boss.

I ducked into an alley and did a spell that I picked up my freshman year at the University. Besides the immediate benefits, being invisible was kinda dull. Sure, you can "borrow" things, even stare at women undressing without them knowing, but what else? Oh well. It was going to serve it's purpose tonight. After a couple of seconds of going over the spell in my head, I looked down. Yep. I saw nothing. It worked as usual. I peeked around the corner. The light had turned off on the third floor. A couple of minutes later, a man walked out stuffing a pass card into his wallet, and the wallet into the pocket of his trench coat. What luck! A one legged blind man could grab a wallet from a trench coat. I crept up behind him, following him to his car. As he unlocked the door, I snagged the wallet out of the pocket. He must have been oblivious, because he got in and drove off without hesitation. 

The wallet was pretty empty. It seemed just a dust jacket for the pass card. I took the card out and tossed the wallet away. I wouldn't need it. I walked around to the back of the building. Perhaps a side or rear entrance would work better than the front door. But, since there was neither, I had to go to the front. I knew there was a security guard in there. If I slid that card and walked through, I was certain to have a high-powered machine gun pointed at me. Damn these mirrored lobby windows! I wished I could see who was inside. But I did have an idea. I went and slid the card through. Once the door beeped and clicked the lock open, the door swung outwards. Just as I suspected, a security guard stepped out a couple feet to investigate, but not enough for me to squeeze through. He reached for a radio at his waist.

"Front door to center." He said.

"Center, go ahead."

"Did you do anything to the front door? Over."

"What do you mean? Over."

"It opened by itself. Over."

"Anyone there? Over."

"Nope."

"The security system must be doing a diagnostic. If it happens again, call me. Out." He put the radio back on his belt and went back inside. The door began to creep back to the original position of locked. As soon as the guard was out of the way, I jumped inside, barely avoiding the door slamming into my backside. Close call.

Inside was pretty dark. A couple lights from outside cast the only light into the lobby. The guard went to the rear of the lobby and picked up a shotgun. Man, if I was caught, I was dead. I silently regretted dumping that gun into the sewer. The security guard began to walk around again, patrolling the floor. 

Now I had to find these files Mr. J. was talking about. They would probably be on the fourth floor. There was no elevator, but a pair of spiral escalators in the middle of the lobby. It was a nice piece of work. One was still twirling upstairs, just as it's brother twirled downwards. This helped because I didn't have to make any undue noise. I traveled up the thing from the first floor to the second, and up to the third floor where the escalator terminated.

The third floor was a few cubicles, another small lobby and a hallway to other offices. A couple security guards were on this floor, talking and looking out the window. They also held shotguns. My heart was racing fast. I proceeded down the hallway, looking at the names of the doors. None of the doors looked really important except for one, because it was open slightly. I pushed on it opening it further, stepped inside and pushed it closed once again.

Inside was your typical office. There was a typical desk, a typical computer, a typical ergonomic office chair, but not your typical office employee sitting in it. A very pretty non-typical office employee as a matter of fact. The wire coming from her head and going into the computer told me she was swimming around in the Matrix. Bones did it all the time when he wasn't drinking my beer. This lady that was sitting at the desk looked like she worked here. Her appearance was right for an office: a gray blazer and skirt, and her brown hair tied back into a neat ponytail. The only thing that didn't fit was the spiral tattooed around her left eye. Both her eyes were closed at the moment. 

Inspiration struck! I bet she knew where the files were! I could pull that plug out of here head and she'd be so disoriented and confused, she'd fess up without even knowing it! I did that all the time to Bones. It was quite a show seeing him suffer from what he called being dumped. I dropped by invisibility act, went over to the young lady and pulled the plug straight out. What a dumb idea. 

Suddenly, she swiveled around and threw a shoulder into my gut. I could only react by falling to the ground and sliding into the wall. The next thing I saw was her standing over me, a gun barrel in my face. I flinched, accidentally dodging the bullet by a fraction of an inch. I could feel the impact the slug made when it hit the wall, but I heard nothing. Lying on the ground, I hit her with the only offense I had; a stun spell. She stumbled backwards and landed on her butt. I jumped up and tried to cover her mouth when she had the gun barrel in my face again. I thought it was the end until I heard it click and the top half slide backwards, only to remain there for want of a bullet.

"Out of ammo?" I asked. She responded by smashing the gun into the side of my face. While I held my jaw in agony, she scooted against the wall, curled up and held her head.

"Dammit!" I growled quietly. "What did you do that for?"

"What do you mean? You pulled the plug on me! You deserved it." She groaned back. She rubbed her head. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I work here!" I said. Yeah, that ought to work.

"Work here? Please." She said, looking at me through her bangs. "A mage with any self respect wouldn't work here. You're on a run. What did you come for?" She had a pretty voice. It was the kind of voice that makes you perform tasks without fully thinking about it first.

"How'd you know..." I started. She smiled.

"Tell you what. How about we do our own thing and leave each other alone? I've got such a fragging headache." She said, still holding her head. I examined the blood on my hand from the fresh cut on my face.

"Okay." I said. While she rolled her head around, I used a bit of magic to close up the cut. The bleeding stopped, and the cut was closing up. With any luck, it wouldn't leave a scar. But now I wasn't so concerned over my face. I could hear footsteps. So could the lady against the wall across from me. She grabbed her gun and popped another clip in. I just stood up. The door swung open and one of the security guards entered, armed with a flashlight and a pistol.

"Hello? What are you doing here?" He asked, shining the flashlight at me, pointing the pistol at my crotch. I flinched, trying to avoid covering my balls with my hands.

"Why, I work here! What's the matter?" I asked, working my magic. This dude was old. That should make it easy to fool him.

"Is that so?" He asked. I could feel him give in. "Got yer ID card handy, son?"

"Sure. No problem." I said. I handed him the ID card recently borrowed. I continued to run the spell over him, gradually feeling it go easier and easier. It was working.

"Hmmm. Ya gotta get a new one. Your hair's shorter."

"Is that a fact? Thanks." He handed it back to me. Before he turned to leave, he nodded to me quickly.

"Ya got a little cut on yer face. You okay?" He said. I reached up as if surprised.

"Damn. Must have scratched myself. Got a rash."

"Oh. Good night." He turned and left, shutting the door behind him. I sighed. Damn, that was close. Sure he was easy to fool, but what if he wasn't? I was so close to having my balls shot off. Twice!

"I can't believe it!" The girl whispered. I looked at her sitting against the wall, her gun in both hands. "I could have shot him three times and been in the parking lot in the time you fooled around!"

"Yeah, but I didn't kill him." I whispered back. "I have scruples."

"Your scruples are going to get you killed." She growled. "If you pull that crap with me again, I'll make sure I have a full clip." She sat back down at the terminal, dropped her gun into a holster on her back and put the cord back into her head. I sighed and continued on my way. She would have been an interesting person to hang around with. I crept further down the hall, finding another door with a maglock. I could see the stairs through the little glass window. I slid the card across the maglock, but alas, a red light flicked on, denying me access. I'd needed another way. Perhaps the original trick I used to gain access? Just get someone else to open it for me. I turned invisible again with little effort. I threw my elbow against the glass. It took all my effort to keep from yelling in pain. Damn that was hard glass! I tried once more. Same result. 

I went back into the other office. The girl was there, still skipping through the Matrix. She wouldn't need her gun. I took it from the holster on her back and went back to the door, taking time on the way to make sure it was also invisible. I stepped back a couple feet, aimed and fired. The glass shattered, the gun never made a sound, but I had to catch the gun after I lost my grip on it from the recoil. She made it look so easy!

Sure enough, the security guards came to investigate. Shotguns held before them. I cowered in the corner as one went up and looked through the shattered glass. He took out his pass card and slid it across the maglock, opening the door. He slipped inside, followed by his partner, followed by me.

"What in the hell was that?" The younger one asked.

"I can understand a door opening by itself, but not this." The security guard reached for his radio. "Attention. Code yellow. Code yellow." A voice crackled in response.

"What? What's the matter?"

"A window broke up here. Something's up. Just make sure you got it on semi-auto, okay? We don't need ninety holes like last time, Leon."

"Yeah, yeah. Out." I gulped. Ninety? My heart was racing at the prospect of being punctured by high velocity metal slugs by a guy named Leon. The two security guards went back into the lobby, leaving me in the stairwell. I tucked the gigantic gun in my pants and crept upstairs.

The fourth floor must have been one office. It consisted of about ten feet of narrow hallway ending at a narrow door. Damn. I couldn't just walk in. I might really get shot if someone was on the other side. I had to get in some other way. I went back downstairs and found a ventilation duct on the wall next to the floor. Luckily, it wasn't bolted, just hinged. I lifted it up and looked down the vent. A long shiny corridor extended into darkness. It wasn't that tempting, but if I wanted the rest of my money, I'd have to try. The vent itself was barely big enough for me. I'm sure I ripped a hole in the suit squeezing in. The crawl wasn't that long: I fell out after five seconds through a grate nearly invisible in the darkness.

Whatever I hit, I hit it hard. I realized it was the floor. The fall was at least ten feet onto the concrete floor. The pain was multiplied by landing on the gun. My invisibility spell dropped upon impact. I just laid there, barely able to do anything except take in the surroundings. I dropped in what appeared to be a boiler room, furnace control room or something. I sat up and looked around. A ladder in the corner lead up to another duct, one that looked like it went over the fourth floor. I picked myself up and climbed into the second duct.

Looking down the vent, I could see a light coming from the bottom. This duct was leading over the office. I crawled in and shimmied forward. About five feet from the vent, I could see the outline of a person, and a gun.

"Who's there? I'll shoot!" asked a familiar voice, barely audible over the low hum of the air conditioning machinery behind me.

"Hello? That you?" I asked. I crawled up the rest of the way. Sure enough, it was the same girl in the same gray suit with the same tattoo around her eye. The gun was much smaller than the one in my pants.

"You again?" she asked, squinting. My eyes got used to the low light. "What are you doing up here?"

"Trying to get inside."

"Yeah, well wait until I'm done."

"What are you doing?"

"Watch. I'm recording." I peeked over the edge of the vent. I saw four men. Three of them were sitting in front of a desk, and one behind it. It looked like a pleasant meeting. Then the man behind the desk got up, and the three other men got up. The two on either side walked around and grabbed the man by his arms. The third man took a rope from his jacket with a noose tied in one end. He hopped up on the desk and looped it around a light fixture. The other two men took the man that was sitting behind the desk and forced his head into the loop and let go. I turned my head. I'm pretty sure he struggled before he died; I didn't have to watch.

"Got it!" she quietly exclaimed. 

"Why on earth do you want to record a murder?" I asked. But I didn't get an answer from her. A voice came from behind me. He spoke into a radio held in one hand while he pointed a gun at my crotch with his other.

"Sir, we got us a couple a tunnel rats."

We were forced through the tiny vent from which we were watching the entire thing. The lady and myself were held while the third man paced back and forth in front of us. He was an old man. Gray hair and moustache. He looked quite British.

"Now then. Why were the two of you up in the vent?" The British gentleman asked with an appropriate British accent. Neither of us responded. The gentleman went up to the lady and looked her over, then reached down her blouse. She was definitely surprised. As was I. He came back up with a small device.

"Why, it appears to be a video recorder!" He said. He opened it up, took out the chip inside and dropped it on the floor. He stomped on it, but the chip didn't break. He did so a few more times. Still the chip remained intact. The lady laughed slightly.

"You can't destroy it! I made sure I'd get you on video. Hell, toss it in a fire! It ain't gonna lose a line of resolution." The gentleman picked up the chip and placed it in his shirt pocket. He walked over to her and slugged her right in the stomach. I was raised to respect women, so that set me off.

"You punk!" I yelled and tossed the biggest stun spell I had at him. He staggered back a pace, then pulled a gun from his hip and pointed the thing straight at my nose, smiling. Then he exhaled, like he had just realized something.

"Very noble. I don't think I'll kill you right now." Instead of shooting me with his shiny chrome gun, he slammed me upside the head with it.


	3. Act III

Act III

The throbbing awoke me. I was lying down, staring at the ceiling. I looked to my left. The lady in the gray suit was sitting on a bench a couple feet from me. Her jacket was wadded up next to her, and she was bent over, her head in her hands. Her hair further obscured her face. I sat up and looked in front of me. In the stark white room was a single door, with a single pane of glass, two inches thick, tempered and criss-crossed with steel wire. "Where are we?" I asked in a raspy voice. She looked up.

"Kind of a holding cell." she replied. "They keep trespassers in here until Lone Star can pick 'em up." She pulled the hair out of her face. "Sorry that you had to get involved in this."

"Don't apologize. I knew the risks before I took the job."

"This your first run?"

"How'd you know?"

"Only people on their first run say that." She said, smiling slightly.

"So what were you doing up there? Why were you recording the murder?" The lady looked at the ceiling and sighed. 

"The man who was hanged was the head of this pharmaceutical company. He was under pressure to sell out to a larger corporation for two years from the vice CEO. Finally, he decided to take matters into his own hands and 'retire' him. The 'suicide' would make the vice CEO the new CEO, the new CEO would sell out, and make money hand over fist." She explained, making quote marks with her fingers when appropriate.

"Wouldn't they suspect fowl play?"

"Hardly. They wouldn't suspect anything. They'd just write it up to the wage slave syndrome. One more stiff who couldn't take the pressures of life."

"So why'd you record the event?"

"I assume whoever wanted me to record it was going to use it to prevent the buy out." She sighed and sat back against the wall. "But now it don't look like anything's going to happen. I really don't care who gets killed or who gets away with it, but I kinda wanted to see these guys get caught. You know, a little justice done." A voice came on over a speaker from the upper corner of the room.

"Well kiddies. Lone Star will be here in about five minutes to pick ya up. Have fun in the pokey!" The voice clicked off. 

"Dammit! Not again..." She sighed. I smiled slightly.

"No, not again." I said. I jumped up and looked through the window. In the front was a security guard sitting at a desk with his feet up. He had a donut in one hand and a skin magazine in the other. I looked back over my shoulder. "Wanna get out of here?"

"Hell yes."

"Cool. Get ready." I stared at him through the glass and began to cast a most difficult spell. To influence someone, to nudge their thinking to your favor is one thing. To actually control their thoughts and actions is another. Most students at the University who practiced this usually ended up in the doctor's office for the afternoon from the amount of fatigue inflicted by it, myself included on one occasion. I clinched my teeth and begun.

It was a shoving match; my mind against his. Immediately I felt like dropping to the ground and passing out. My muscles ached, but I continued. Shoving harder and harder against him. Slowly, steadily pushing his will back and urging him to walk forward. The security guard began to get up and walk towards the door. As he reached for his keys, he shoved back against me hard. But I continued pushing. He unlocked the door, and pulled it open. It took all my concentration to step to the side without losing the spell. The security guard entered, shuffling his feet, his face frozen, almost as if he was terrified.

"I'm out! C'mon!" She exclaimed. I gave in. I let his mind go as I dropped the spell. The security guard and I both stood inside the cell stunned by the sudden rush of free will. I was so drained I could only stand there. He, on the other hand, began to come around and stumbled back to the door. The lady grabbed me and pulled me out of the room and slammed the door. I could see the security guard's face yelling silently in the glass.

"I can't believe it!" She exclaimed. "That was incredible!" She hugged me hard. I was still dizzy from the spell. I shook my head and tried to get a grip on things. I began to get my orientation back, the fatigue gave way to a second wind. A yawn was the only negative result from the spell. But I couldn't breathe.

"Uh, you can let go..." I gasped. She did. Her face was beaming.

"Leon!" A radio screamed on the desk. "Pick up the goddamned radio!" We looked at each other for a second. She picked up the radio and turned the channel dial halfway between channels three and four. Then she handed it to me.

"Leon. Go ahead." I said.

"What in the hell's the matter with you unit?" the voice on the other side asked. "I'm getting a hell of a lotta static."

"Got me. What's up?"

"Where were you?"

"Taking a whiz. What's up?"

"You call Lone Star yet?"

"Yeah. They were already here."

"Oh yeah?"

"Sure. How are things on that end?"

"Fine now. Me and the guys are gonna take off. Have fun with the graveyard shift."

"Can do." I replied. The radio went dead.

"It seems we can get out of here now." I said.

"Nope. I've gotta get my video back. I'm getting paid for that." She said. She rooted through the desk drawers, pulling her confiscated guns out. "You oughta get one of your own. Plenty to go around!" I looked in the drawer. She was right. It looked like an evidence lock up at a police station, or maybe Bones' closet. 

"No thanks. Let's go after our stuff and get out of here." I said. Right before we left the room, she turned to me.

"Before we head out..." She extended her hand. "I'm Circumstance."

"Charmed. I'm Fletch." I shook her hand, a little surprised at the firmness of her grip.

"Oh! I love your movies." She smiled. We left the office. She was in front, her gun out, and I followed close behind. We were back on the bottom floor. It was barren. The security guards must have left for the night. I followed her straight upstairs again, and back into the office we originally met. She lifted a panel in the ceiling and jumped in. She helped me in and we climbed a ladder to the other end of the duct where we were caught. Inside the office the poor guy still dangling from the rope, the British gentleman sitting at the desk, obviously caring little about him, and the two other men, standing on either side with black assault rifles. The Brit was looking though papers and talking on the phone. 

"And I say you're a mewling coward. Of course it's going to work!" The Brit yelled into the phone. The speaker was on.

"So you're not going to tell the rest of us you've moved the date up?" The voice asked from the other end of the phone. It sounded like my employer.

"I didn't tell you because I knew this was the reaction I'd get."

"I hired a guy to go after the documents you stole. Dammit, if you told us, I wouldn't have had to."

"Really? I'm flattered. Who was it?"

"Oh, young kid. Wizard, about as tall as I am."

"Was _that him? Bloody hell! I bashed him over the head, now Lone Star has him."_

"You owe me three thousand nuyen, prick. Three thousand! Not everyone is as financially secure as you."

"You'll have that and more once this is over. Now help me come up with a feasible suicide note. 'Goodbye, cruel world', or something like that…" They continued to chat.

"Okay. So how do we get the stuff we came after?" I asked Circumstance.

"Can't you make one shoot the other?" Circumstance asked.

"Nope. Way too hard. My brain would explode." I explained. "But I could try to nail 'em with stun spells."

"Don't you know a spell with some teeth on it?"

"Never needed to." I said, smiling.

"Looks like the direct approach again." She said, and dove into the vent. Before she hit the floor, before anyone could react, she fired her gun three times, hitting the man on the left in the head. When she hit the ground, she jumped and dove to the left to hide behind a shelf. The other man lowered his rifle to sight, but I stunned him before he could take aim. He lost his grip on his gun, spraying the ceiling with bullets. A line of holes punched past me, leaving pillars of light behind. He grabbed the rifle again, but Circumstance plugged him three times in the side. He fell against the wall, screaming in pain, then fell silent. The Brit was still sitting as he was, as if nothing happened. He still sat reclined in the large office chair.

"Excuse me." He said. "I'll call you back." Circumstance swung her gun at him, but a shot rang out from under the desk, striking the gun and knocking it from her hand. He stood up with a gun similar to Circumstance's and shot her in the leg. She yelped in surprise, and my stomach twisted. He came around the desk, and shot her again in the same leg. Same yelp, making my stomach twist twice as hard.

"Circumstance, is it now?" He asked, approaching her. Once again, he fired a slug in her leg. Now she started to sniffle, trying not to show her pain. He was right next to her now. He crouched next to her. "Why? Are you hoping to make me a 'victim of circumstance'? Hmmm? That's pretty cute." He raised his gun to her head.

"No!" I screamed. I jumped down the vent. In a flash, he raised the gun behind his back and intercepted me in midair. I felt the slug slam into the side of my chest, but I also felt it bounce off. When I hit the floor, I scrambled to the assault rifle the dead man dropped and hid behind the desk. A shot penetrated and whizzed past my ear. I grunted in agony from the hit on my side. It felt like one of my ribs had busted.

"And who is this lad? Hmmm?" He fired another shot, once again breezing past my head. I fired the rifle straight into the desk, nearly unloading the entire clip. The digital display on the back of the gun said I had four shots left. I turned invisible, but since my condition wasn't ideal to cast a spell, I paid heavily for it. My head hurt like nothing else.

"He's not a bad shot, I'll give him that." I looked up above the desk. I hit him. There was no doubt of that. As a matter of fact, I should have sawed him in half. His shirt and jacket were shredded around his stomach and blood poured out like water from a faucet. And yet he stood. "You two should make a fine pair, eh?"

"Dammit, Dad, I'm not dating him! You son of a bitch!" Circumstance screamed, tears rolling down her face. The gentleman turned.

"My dearest daughter! Why couldn't you just learn to love me like Mom did?" He raised the gun again. I stood and fired the remaining four bullets at the back of his head. I missed by a full yard. He just stood there for a second, like he was contemplating something. He turned around. Before I could even flinch, he fired at me. But the shot never hit me. It hit the rifle I was carrying. Then the gentleman just stood there. A trickle of blood streamed from his eye. Then he dropped.

"Fletch! You there?" Circumstance called. I dropped my spell and the gun. My side burned like crazy. I saw a patch of red in the gray suit. My head ached just as bad. I went over to the body of Circumstance's father. It seems that the shot that killed him was meant for me. It ricocheted off the rifle and struck him in the eye. Talk about a long shot. Circumstance crawled over and reached into his shirt pocket, extracting the video chip.

"Bastard." she grunted and slapped his face. I went to the desk. Apparently, the Brit was looking at the exact files I came to get. The names and dates on the header matched what Mr. J. said. They were detailed plans for a takeover. 

"Holy..." I said. "These are it. I did it."

"What?" Circumstance asked, pulling herself up to the desk. She examined the files on the desk as well. She opened her mouth slightly.

"Is this what you came for?" she asked.

"Seems so."

"Are you particularly loyal to this person you're retrieving these for?" Circumstance asked. Then it hit me. The guy I was retrieving these for and the dead gentlemen on the floor were working together. 

"Not any more."

"I can guarantee you'll get much more for these documents if you sell them to my employer."

"Let's talk business later. We need to get out of here." I said. I picked up the phone on the desk and punched in a few numbers. "Please be there, dammit." I whispered under my breath.

"Yello? Ahmed's Harem?" Bones' voice replied from the speaker phone.

"Bones!"

"Felix?"

"Yeah! Dammit, I need a getaway driver."

"Now?"

"Yes, you son of a bitch! Now!" I nearly screamed, shocked he'd even ask.

"Okay, okay. Where you at?"

"Blue-Atkins Pharmaceutical building. One out on Nineteenth Street. The delivery alley." Circumstance interjected.

"Cool. See you in five."

"Make it one." I said. I could hear a few voices in the background. Bones was having his function, and since I called my apartment, I knew I'd have to buy garbage bags and air freshener in the morning. Circumstance hobbled over to the window. If I had to judge by her face alone, I would have never known she was just shot in the leg three times; she was as cool as a professional. Maybe she was? She opened it and found the spring-loaded cable pulley on the side of the building that acted as the fire escape. She pulled it down, put the handle on her good foot, and began to step out. That's when the door burst open. Lone Star spewed forth, guns and flashlights drawn. I wasn't going to wait for the return trip on the fire escape. I grabbed the files, grabbed her and jumped out the window as the well-known triple popping sound of Lone Star standard issue pistols followed us into the night sky. I expected Circumstance's foot to hold. It didn't. 

I looked down to see what we'd wind up landing on and saw a window slightly cracked one floor below; a flaw in the gigantic jewelry box. With Circumstance holding on to my waist, I let go of her and grabbed for the edge. Much to my surprise, I actually held on. Circumstance slipped down and stopped at my ankles. The rest of her body whipped downward and kicked out the window below. Without pause, she scrambled straight up my back and into the office above. As soon as she hit the floor, she grabbed me by the back of my jacket and yanked me inside. While I was still in flight into the office, the officers above opened fire into the alley, giving the poor dumpster below what for. Coincidentally, half a block away, a car peeled out and shot down the street.

"There they go! Move it!" One officer ordered from above. They ran from the office and right past the one Circumstance and I were in. A quarter of a minute later, sirens screamed after the car. Then silence.

"I can't believe our luck." I said, lying on the floor, holding the wound on my head.

"What?" Circumstance asked, keeping low next to the window, keeping watch. Her gun was drawn, pointed at the ceiling and resting on her cheek.

"How many of these windows are open?"

"I opened this one when I came in." Circumstance explained.

"A little high off the ground, eh?"

"I couldn't very well have come in the front door, could I?" She asked. I decided to keep my comment to myself.


	4. Act IV

Act IV

We sat in silence for about five minutes before Bones finally showed up. I was able to hang from the window ledge and drop down to the top of the dumpster below and help Circumstance down. She could have probably jumped down herself, but I figured she put aside any feministic pride she may have had and accepted a chivalrous gentleman's offer of help. We crawled into his van and skipped off into the night. After sitting quietly in another alley for a few minutes, we stopped at a friend of Bones': a doctor that operated out of a basement apartment. He claimed he used to work for DocWagon, but he had a "falling out" with the organization. If that was the case, a lot of high-end medical equipment "fell out" with him. However, I wasn't in the mood to care where he or anything else came from. Both of us were in bad shape. Circumstance had three slugs in her leg, and I had a gash across my head and my side that was still slowly oozing blood after nearly half an hour. 

"So tell me, why do you think I can get more if I sell these files to your employer?" I asked Circumstance while the doctor stitched the holes in her leg closed. I was sitting next to her, holding a bag of frozen tofu against my freshly treated ribs.

"The video I taped would have only delayed the takeover. A couple of people go to prison, a month of business-as-usual, then the onslaught starts over again." She explained. I nodded in reply. "Everyone in the corporate food chain is looking to sell out. Usually, that's just the way it is and no one thinks twice. Like I said, business as usual. But with the files you got, Blue-Atkins Pharmaceuticals will be able to shut down companies ten times larger than it is. I've never seen a puzzle piece as large as the one you have."

"Why do you care so much about this tiny company anyway?"

"It's not that I care about 'em, it's because one, the price was right, and two, my father was staging the entire takeover operation."

"You two don't get along I take it?"

"He forgot my fifth birthday, I forgot Father's Day, things went downhill from there. You know." Circumstance explained smiling. 

"So what do I do with my employer? Tell him to play 'Hide and Go Fuck Yourself'?"

"Oh, I don't know. Tell him they were destroyed. Something like that."

We left the doctor's apartment at sunrise. We took a ride over to Mr. J's office building. The place was abandoned. Apparently these documents I had recovered were going to sink him. I assumed he was in South America by now. That made it much easier to sell the goods to someone else. Bones dropped us off at Circumstance's employer, complaining that he wasn't going to cart us around anymore because he had certain "responsibilities" to his houseguests. It goes to show you that friendship means nothing when you're trying to get laid.

The meeting with Circumstance's employer was very brief and to the point. She was right. I received eighteen thousand nuyen for those documents. Her employer informed me that three dozen competing companies were going to burn thanks to those files. Plus, I could expect to be getting jobs from him real soon. On top of it all, he called us a cab. What service!

We walked out together, but much richer than we were before. In the bright morning sun, we were a motley pair standing there waiting for our ride. I don't think you could have found a more disheveled couple than us. Certainly didn't reflect our mood.

"Not bad. Not bad at all." I said.

"For your first run? Hell no."

"Good. I'm going to go home and lie down for a little while. Say a week."

"Wow. You know, I'm really hungry right now." Circumstance confessed. I turned to her in surprise. 

"Let me get this straight. You get shot three times in the same leg and that's all you can think about?" She just looked at me as if to say "Duh". I paused and pondered my own situation.

"Damn. So am I." I said, smiling.

"Well then you can buy me breakfast." She said.

"What? Are you making a date?" I asked, looking at her.

"No."

"What if I refuse, huh?" I asked. Yeah, like that was going to happen. Circumstance looked back at me and smiled.

"You can't." She explained. "You're a victim of circumstance."

end


End file.
